


only when we're alone

by multifanwho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: One Shot, Other, Short One Shot, this is all because I wanted to see 13 call her tardis 'sexy' and I have no shame in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 21:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifanwho/pseuds/multifanwho
Summary: The Doctor finds herself alone with the TARDIS for the first time since inhabiting her new body.  Or so she thinks.





	only when we're alone

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself this would be funny but it's turned out a liiiiittle bit angsty, whoopsies
> 
> thank you to all the people on tumblr who peer pressured me into writing this

The Doctor stands over her TARDIS console. Only half an hour ago she came to the realisation that she hasn’t been left alone with her age old constant throughout her lives, and she wanted to appreciate the new design like the old girl deserved. Spending time with her new ‘fam’ was fun and new but the Doctor knows they’ll leave. They always leave in the end. But the TARDIS is  _ her  _ TARDIS. She is her thief. Nothing could ever separate them. Well, maybe a couple of regeneration disasters could separate them but only for a little while. They always find the way back to each other. 

The detail of the console was nothing like the Doctor had seen before. The warm oranges against the ice cold blues for a start set a strong tone for the place but the practical rather than digital controls brought the Doctor back to her roots. She was handy with tools in this body. Even had to make her own sonic for a start and go on alone without her best asset for a couple of adventures. As the Doctor circles around for about the fifth time she takes notes on the readings on the various gauges, making sure her TARDIS is fit and running as best she can. They looked after each other, the machine and the time lord. 

Running her new fingers along every button, crevice and lever, almost marking it as her own again, familiarising herself, filled the Doctor with a sense of belonging. She tried not to press any buttons in fear of getting ejected again, especially since there were more fragile lives on board with no excess energy coursing through every molecule of their being to save them. As she passed the biscuit pedal she summons a custard cream and munches on it trying not to leave any disrespectful crumbs, staring and analysing the hexagonal shapes covering every inch of the walls and some of the floor like they were the same cogs that fit together in her head when she came up with a brilliant plan. The spider like pillars made the inners of the blue box feel more enclosed. Less big, less empty. Less alone. 

“Don’t think I’ve properly spent time with you yet as this version of me.” The Doctor says, a small smile creeping into the corners of her mouth. “You’re always too busy. Taking me to where I need to be rather than where I request, ‘ey old girl.” 

_ “I didn’t want you to go it alone again. Time without me forced you to make friends.” _ The TARDIS says. 

Well, the machine doesn’t speak in a way that the humans on board would understand. They would just hear a series of whirrs and creaks and groans that a machine would make normally but this wasn’t just a machine; she was real. A consciousness. And the Doctor could speak to her.

“There are still parts of me missing. I can’t remember small things- small but important things. It's quite distressing sometimes.” The Doctor thinks out loud. She trusts that the TARDIS won’t snitch or ask difficult questions. 

_ “There are parts of you missing, for sure.”  _ The TARDIS snickers. 

The Doctor stops leaning against the panel and glances down at her crotch before becoming incredibly irritated. She hadn’t even paid attention to that part of herself changing yet because so far it didn’t matter. Probably might never matter. She was still her.

“Don’t be rude.” She warns, but then has a change of heart. Yaz hadn’t given her an answer when they first met, not a proper one. “Does it suit me?” 

_ “Very much so.”  _ The TARDIS replies almost instantly.  _ “Quite sexy.” _

The use of the word triggers something inside the Doctor. Not lust, nothing to do with sexual attraction. It was familiarity. She stiffens and frowns as she tries to figure it out. What was it surrounding that word that made her feel safe and secure? The Doctor rests her hands against the side of the console again in an attempt to clear her brain. The core of the console, now a crystal looking pillar glowing so brightly it might be hot looked so inviting. Gently, the Doctor reaches out her right arm to stroke the pillar. It wasn’t hot, but it did feel alive. 

“Huh.” The Doctor smiles wide with shining teeth. “Sexy.” She dances around the console one more time. “I call you sexy.” 

_ “Yes, finally, you admit it.”  _ The TARDIS sounds like she's rolling her eyes.

“You say that like I have a problem with it.” The Doctor folds her arms, slowly easing herself into the art of flirting again. 

_ “You were offended last time I mentioned it.” _

“ _ That _ was because you said it in front of my friends. Embarrassin’” She tuts.

The Doctor sits down on the raised platform with her booted feet resting on the lower one facing the police box doors. 

“You are sexy though, aren’t you.” The Doctor traces her fingers around the Gallifreyan letters etched into the sides of the floor layers. She knows what they say. They’re the names of everyone who has ever traveled through time and space in the TARDIS. A painful reminder of those been and gone but it was needed to keep the Doctor grounded. A reminder that the TARDIS would never leave her. “So beautiful.” 

What she didn’t know while she sat there was that she  _ had  _ accidentally pressed a button. The speaker button, to be precise. Her conversation was being broadcast throughout the other rooms of the TARDIS, alerting all other inhabitants to what was being said in the main console room.

“Do you think she knows we can hear her?” Graham asks, his voice hushed. 

“Absolutely not.” Ryan answers.

“Ssh!” Yaz hisses at them. 

They were all watching from the corridor; close enough for them to see and hear but far enough away that if the Doctor turned around she wouldn’t be able to see them. Ryan thought it was sweet how the Doctor talked so freely and openly and wished he had the capability to do that. Graham understood how she felt about having a life long friend to count upon. Yaz was filled with this unyielding desire to know what the TARDIS was saying back. She wanted to figure out the mystery that is ‘The Doctor’. They all did.

“She’s mad!” Ryan mutters. 

“She’s lonely.” Yaz corrects him. She turns to stare him down. “Don’t try and tell me you’ve never talked to yourself when you’ve been alone for a long time.”

“But she isn’t talking to herself.” Graham notes. Ryan and Yaz now look at him like he’s mad. “You can see and hear the TARDIS responding, look.” 

They all look closer. Sure enough the console was responding through noises and illuminations and movements. It was almost like there was a whole other person alive in there. Heart and soul. They don’t say it out loud but all three of them were wondering about the severity of how long the Doctor had spent floating around in space and how it has affected who she is. The things she never got to share, the theories that she never got to speak out loud and test against another person's ear. All but the TARDIS there to listen. To look after her. 

To care. 


End file.
